


Two Coffees

by ardentmuse



Series: Harry Hart Imagines [10]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, Wanderlust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentmuse/pseuds/ardentmuse





	Two Coffees

“Dinner was lovely, Harry,” you said with a smile as you rested your arm in his elbow, allowing him to lead you down the avenue that formed the center of the small French town you were exploring, a day off of work before you were rushed off to your next destination, to your next big mission, to your next life-threatening adventure.

“Only the best for you, my love,” he said with a squeeze to your fingers. His pace was slow, an amble really, as you watched the sun begin to set over the hills that made up the edges of town and took in the people living their lives, completely oblivious to the harm you just saved them from a mere 24 hours earlier.

Harry occasionally paused at windows, looking at the clothing or jewelry on display, commenting upon occasion, but more than anything enjoying the comfortable silence that had become your partnership.

His feet stopped dead though in front of an adorable shop with stacks of novels in the windows, many with English titles.

“Shall we?” he asked, titling his head to the open door and the cafe filled with pastries just within.

“How dare you tempt me with a small bookstore!”

“I dare many things, love, but temptation is best of them, no?” Harry asked, his voice quickly transitioning from gentlemanly to seductive at those last few works. The way his hand ran up the length of your forearm only highlighted his point. And tempted you were, but books first.

With a nod, Harry slid his elbow until he was able to interlock his fingers with yours and guide you through the door. The store was small, with books stacked more in piles than on shelves and the coffee sent filling every inch of the space. You took he seat he offered you, ever the gentleman before he left to get you drinks.

But you just couldn’t stay seated. The books were calling you forward. You quickly lost yourself to the shelves, volumes of mysteries and poetry, collections of short stories and fables you had never seen. You had managed to find a French copy of your favorite book and were frantically flipping through, seeing the different spelling of names and places just as Harry came up.

“Dessert is at the table, too,” he said with a light kiss to your brow, “And two coffees. Black for me. Milk for you.”

“Aww, you remember how I liked it,” you fawned, closing the book to carry it with you back to the table.

“Yes, with milk. It’s just one ingredient,” he said with a laugh.

“But an important one.”

Once seated, you began talking once more, about everything from the books around you, to your childhood interests, to even the weather, but like always, talk turned back to work.

“And that mission was so frustrating because Eggsy was just such a,” you couldn’t find the right word, “stupid face,” you finally settled on, as inelegant as it was.

“Stupid face? Really?” Harry said with a chuckle, “Though I guess everyone I work with is a stupid face.”

“You do realize we work together, right?” you asked over the steam of your mug. Your brain finally registered that Harry had gotten you coffee well into the evening. You began to wonder what he might have planned for you for the next few hours and the thought had you smiling and your face heating at the implications.

Harry hummed. “I don’t exactly work with you. I mostly work for you.”

“So I’m the boss?” you laughed.

“Always,” he confirmed, reaching over to grab your hand as it laid on top of your book, caressing your knuckles and never breaking your gaze.

After a moment, you eyes locked and the world between you filled with silence, Harry finally coughed and pulled his hand away.

“We’ll pay for the book and go, yes?” Harry asked, standing and grabbing the book beside you.

“Oh, no, I don’t need it,” you protested.

“Consider it a souvenir, something you can look at on your shelf and remember today?”

You nodded, knowing it was worthless to protest Harry when he wanted to give you a gift.

When Harry returned, he handed you the small bag before taking your hand. He pulled you lightly as he made for the door. Outside, night had properly fallen and the streetlights made the sidewalks glow, a truly beautiful cap to yet another wonderful date. As you took in the pretty sight of trees and storefronts and shadows, you felt Harry lean over, his lips and breath tickling your ear.

“So now that neither of us are going to be able to sleep, maybe we continue to enjoy each other’s company from the confines of your bedroom?” he asked in whisper.

“Harry!” you practically screamed, “You were just trying to, to—“ again you couldn’t find the word.

“Tempt you? I wouldn’t dare it,” he said with a grin smeared across his face.

You let out a sigh before burying yourself in his chest.

“If I didn’t like this plan so much, I might be a little annoyed with you,” you said to his sternum.

“If you like the plan, then I say we execute,” he said. He swiftly untangled himself from you so he could lead you down the road towards your hotel, his steps long and quick. “From now on, call me Velvet Thunder,” he said over his shoulder to you, his smile so wide and playful that you couldn’t help but mimic it.

“Please no role-play, Harry.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned around to face you.

“What was that now, darling?”

“Please no role-play,” you said, watching as Harry raised an eyebrow. “Velvet Thunder?” you continued hesitantly.

Harry laughed good and full before taking your hand once more.

“That’s what I thought,” he said before picking you up bridal style despite your giggled protests, determined to carry you back to your rooms as quickly as his body would let him.


End file.
